


The Tides Run Swiftly

by baranduin



Category: Lord of the Rings (2001 2002 2003), Lord of the Rings - Tolkien
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-13
Updated: 2010-01-13
Packaged: 2017-10-06 06:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,672
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baranduin/pseuds/baranduin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Rivendell after the Quest, Frodo is struck by how Bilbo has aged. Written for Elwen (elwenlj on Livejournal) on her birthday, October 19, 2003.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Tides Run Swiftly

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Elwen_of_the_hidden_valley](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elwen_of_the_hidden_valley/gifts).



"I think it's time."

"For what?"

Bilbo drew back from Frodo, his eyebrows lifted in surprise. "My speech! Surely you haven't forgotten about my after-dinner speech." He pursed his lips and shook his head, disbelief trembling from every gray wisp of hair on his head. "You certainly gave me your considered opinion about it during the planning, though I must confess you were more encouraging than Gandalf was. Hmph. No point to this party at all unless I give it to them ... all one gross of them, I may say."

"Oh, Bilbo."

"What? You are thick-headed tonight, Frodo. Most unusual of you. Is the sight of the Sackville-Bagginses driving out your usual good Baggins sense?"

Frodo looked around the long table in Elrond's great hall and took a deep breath. He leaned a little closer to Bilbo so that only the dear old hobbit would hear his words. "Dearest Bilbo, that was years ago. In Hobbiton."

"Well, of course we're in ..." As an Elf poured them both another measure of the sweet after-dinner wine, Bilbo's age-clouded eyes grew clear with understanding. Frodo couldn't decide which was more heart-breaking—his loss of memory or his regaining of it. Bilbo's face flamed red, but all he said was, "Of course, my boy, of course. I was just wondering if you remembered it. After all, it was many years ago, and you had just come of age and all. Ah, it was a night to remember, wasn't it?"

Though Frodo's eyes filled with tears and his throat seemed blocked inexplicably with a hard round new potato, he was able to say in a soft and gentle voice, "I remember. It was the best speech I ever heard ... that anyone ever heard in Hobbiton."

Bilbo snorted. "In Hobbiton? In all the Shire, I should say."

"Of course. And don't forget the Bree-land! You're famous there as well." Frodo smiled in spite of the tears that threatened to fall and raised his goblet in an impromptu toast. "And when I left Hobbiton last fall, it was still the favorite topic at the Green Dragon ... as I'm sure it is today, Bilbo dear."

Frodo took a deep drink of his wine, savoring the complexity of its flavor, hints of plum and apricot mingling together and the barest undertone of almond adding subtlety to its scent. Bilbo was one hundred twenty-nine today and he was only fifty-one, but at the moment he felt a thousand years old at least.

When Frodo finished his goblet of wine, he set it down carefully on the table and turned to Bilbo again. He started to say, "It seems more than a year since ..." but Bilbo was fast asleep, his chin sunk on his chest.

It was just as well. He was not sure he had the words to express what was in his heart anyway.

"Shall I have him carried to his room?"

Frodo started for he had not heard Elrond approach. Smiling, he said, "No, thank you. I think he's fine. I expect he'll wake in a little while, and then I shall take him to his room myself."

Instead of nodding his assent and leaving, Elrond knelt next to Frodo's chair, the thick silk of his robe rustling as he settled. "He sleeps peacefully, do you not think?"

"Oh yes, he does. Very peacefully ... and often ..."

"Are you surprised, Ringbearer? He is very very old now."

Frodo smiled wide. "Is he? To you?"

At that, Elrond laughed, and it was the first time Frodo had ever heard the Lord of Imladris do such a thing. It was a fine laugh, heartier and more full-bodied than one might expect of such a grand personage—rather like the wine he had been drinking, full of depths and undertones that one did not expect.

Elrond said, "Why, yes, though perhaps I should have said he is very old according to Perian kind. After all, he has but two more years before he outlives the Old Took."

"Oh, do you know of him?"

"Certainly, Frodo. You must remember that Bilbo has lived here many years; he and I have had the pleasure of many long talks together by the fire in his little room."

"Of course," Frodo murmured. After taking another long look at Bilbo, noting the deep lines of age on his forehead and the prominent blue veins on his fragile hand, Frodo said, "It has not been even a year since I've seen him, but ..." A little catch in his voice made him stop a moment before continuing. "He's aged so very much in the past months."

"And it has taken you by surprise?"

"Well, yes, it has. I suppose it shouldn't. I spoke with Arwen in Minas Tirith about him, and I've been preparing myself ever since to find him much advanced with age." Frodo turned in his seat to face Elrond, holding his hands palms up. "But ..." Again, he could not find the words that filled his heart.

Elrond stroked the stump of Frodo's maimed finger with his thumb. "But to see something in the flesh is quite a different thing than to imagine it, as real as your imaginings have seemed to you. Is that what you mean?"

Frodo nodded. "Yes, that's it exactly. Though ..." And here Frodo smiled again, a grin to himself really.

"Ah, exactly except for what?"

He was a little embarrassed to say it. It hadn't embarrassed him thinking about it last night in his bed, but to say it to Elrond was quite a different matter. Frodo blew out a little puff of air and then, looking into Elrond's eyes, he said, "I'd thought that maybe I'd inherited a little of the Elvish way of looking at the passage of time." He shrugged.

Though Elrond's eyes usually had a remote gray light in them, as though part of him was always pondering the ages that he had seen, at the moment all their detachment had fled and a bright sparkle in them told Frodo that he was very present. And interested. "Tell me more," he said. "If you have a mind to, that is."

Frodo said, "I think it was Legolas who said something about how the passage of time is so very sad to the Elves ... that since they ... you ... live so long, watching mortals live and die is, well, very sad since it goes so quickly. Like a flower that blooms and dies within the space of a day and a night." Frodo flushed and shook his head. "I don't think I'm making much sense."

Elrond inclined his head gravely. "You make very much sense to me, Frodo, and I believe I take your meaning, as Master Gamgee might say. When you were in Rivendell last year, Bilbo had aged quite a bit, but not nearly as much as how you see him now."

"Yes, it feels like it's happened in the blink of an eye."

"And you feel like you're standing still on the margins, unchanging, while it happens."

"Yes, like I can't help him drifting away from me, like he's being carried away by a swift stream." Frodo laughed a little. "I think that's where I've been getting my delusions of Elvishness."

"Ah, but Frodo! No, it is no delusion but a consequence of what you have accomplished. Do not forget the effect of the Ring and its destruction. While the Elves never touched it, nevertheless its forging was based on knowledge discovered by the Elves. And while you bore this thing yourself and have suffered greatly from it, you did not possess it as long as Bilbo did and you used it very little. Unlike you, Bilbo bore it for many years according to your kind, and it kept him youthful past the normal measure of Halflings."

Elrond stopped speaking to smile fondly at Bilbo, and Frodo saw many happy memories shining from his eyes. "Though perhaps I should say only his youthful appearance has faded into the agedness appropriate to his many long years of life, for he has certainly kept his heart green and fresh. No, it does not surprise me at all that you are having these impressions and that they have been shocking and unpleasant for you. It would surprise me if you had not. Time's stream is now moving quickly for Bilbo, and though it is difficult for you to accept, there is naught you can do to stop its flow."

Elrond stood and smiled down at Frodo, resting his hand lightly on the hobbit's shoulder for a moment and giving it a little squeeze. "Also, I believe it has been said of you on occasion that you have an Elvish air, and you have been named Elf-friend. So do not be too surprised. You have experienced much in the past year, more than any of Halfling kind, even Bilbo here."

Again, Frodo could not find the words to express himself properly, but he knew it didn't matter; his grateful smile would more than make up for the lack. Elrond nodded at him and spoke a soft farewell for the night before leaving him. Frodo leaned back in his chair and watched Bilbo for a few minutes, the tides of his own tiredness beginning to tug at his eyelids and fill his ears with a peaceful murmur.

Rather like the gentle swells in the middle of the Sea that rise and fall in a hypnotic rhythm.

_"What a peculiar thought. You've never even seen the Sea's shores, much less bobbed about in the middle of it like a cork."_ He yawned and let his eyelids begin to close. _"Too much wine, I expect."_ Settling against the cushions of his chair, just before his eyes closed completely, he saw Sam watching him from across the table with an expression of ... something ...

 

  
_Foam is white and waves are grey;_  
Beyond the sunset leads my way.  
Foam is salt, the wind is free;  
I hear the rising of the Sea.  
(J.R.R. Tolkien, Bilbo's Last Song)  



End file.
